


So this is

by WahlBuilder



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Married Couple, Old Married Couple, So Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 20:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Daud comes to collect Martin, and they have a little talk.





	So this is

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Out of the Spotlight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16131281) by [adrift_me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me). 



Father Martin is drunk. Well, it appears he’s more tired than drunk, because there’s no usual seething anger that drives him to drink and consumes him slowly.

Daud hates it when he’s like this, because he knows several methods of venting it out better than getting smashed, but still Martin chooses _this_ , and Daud hates that Father Martin knows it as well.

He just likes pissing Daud off.

 _Shouldn’t have married a former military chaplain_ , Corvo’s voice echoes in his head.

Bastard.

‘I’m not drunk,’ comes the voice near his ear, so sudden Daud nearly jumps. He opens the door of his van and lowers Martin on the passenger seat carefully, closes the door with as little noise as possible, walks around, gets in the car, too. Cuts the off the whole world.

It’s starting to rain. So cliche.

‘I’m not drunk. Had nothing stronger than pear juice all evening. You can go and ask.’

Daud presses the heels of his hands over his eyes.

‘Daud...’ There’s a plea in his voice. Something apologetic, terrible—where is the kicking, snarling, biting snake?

The snake is tired as hell and wants warmth.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.’ He looks at Teague.

He’s not Father Martin anymore, just like Daud is not a mobster anymore. There is grey on Teague’s temples, finally making them even in that respect.

Daud reaches over, touches Teague’s cheek. He doesn’t feel the stubble through the thick glove, but he can feel it later, with fingers and lips.

‘What is it now?’

Teague casts his gaze down, on his lap. His hands perfectly pressed to his thighs. ‘Jasper sent a letter and—’

Daud can’t hold back a growl, doesn’t even try. ‘I’ll snap his neck for you. Want it?’

A small smile—an echo of that lopsided smirk that always drives him up the wall—appears on Teague’s lips. ‘Dear me, that would be such a sight.’

Daud huffs, but he’s glad Teague’s bite is returning. ‘I don’t hear the “but”.’ He drops his hand—but Teague catches it and squeezes.

‘The “but” is, he doesn’t deserve even that,’ he says, eyes like steel, face like a knife—if not for those ears. Daud likes tracing their shape. Watching Teague’s neck turn red.

‘No objections to the killing itself?’ he asks.

Teague shrugs, his hand now a slight pressure on Daud’s. ‘You look good when you are murderous.’

‘And terrible when I’m not?’

Teague runs a hand over his face. ‘Drive us home, and I’ll show you just how _terrible_ I find you.’

Daud smiles and starts the engine.

Corvo doesn’t know a single thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written them for ages, I still love them.


End file.
